


Settle down, little kid (Your bones are shaking in your skin)

by Brain_Brainson



Series: DFD Prompt Fills [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, I have no idea this makes it sound so bad, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mild Gore, Multi, but if you're looking for shippy content I may have to disappoint you that that isn't the focus here, it's just a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 19:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brain_Brainson/pseuds/Brain_Brainson
Summary: He was never the strong one.But it's different now. Now there's Diego and now there's Klaus with teary eyes, silently begging Ben to make this whole mess even the slightest bit better.





	Settle down, little kid (Your bones are shaking in your skin)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: creates a Fluff Prompt Challenge  
Also Me: writes Angst
> 
> The prompt was 'Decorating' and well......it is mentioned at least.....
> 
> (Pls tell me if I missed any tags or anything? I'm so anxious about missing possible triggers).

"This is ridiculous." Diego is laying back on the bed, arms crossed. He reminds Ben of a petulant child. 

Klaus doesn't answer so Diego raises his head a little, glares over at him.

"Ridiculous," he repeats, flicks his eyes over to Ben like he's expecting some moral support.

Ben shrugs, sitting on the table, kicking his legs a little where they are dangling over the edge. Diego lets his head fall back with a groan.

"It's way too early for christmas decoration," he tries again, gestures with his hands a little.

"D, my babe, it's never too early to sneak in some mistletoes here and there."

Klaus keeps going through the box he got from some donation center, little tokens and figurines no one wanted anymore.

Ben had called them ugly. Klaus had called it a christmas miracle. Diego had pointed out that it’s October. 

"You live in a one room apartment, where the fuck are you gonna hide mistletoes?" 

Klaus hums. "I'll think of something." He looks over at Diego, winks at him even though Diego's busy looking at the ceiling. 

"Besides, don't tell me you aren't dying to get some sweet kisses."

"Something like that," Diego mumbles, low enough Ben barely hears it over Klaus rummaging through the box.

Louder, he says: "I would prefer some kisses from my  _ favourite _ brother over yours any day."

Klaus gasps, fake offended. He glares at Ben. Ben blows him a kiss. 

"Fine," Klaus says, crossing his arms. "None of you get any kisses from me."

He sticks his tongue out at Diego when Diego laughs at him. Ben watches on, smile on his face, content to just see the two of them interact with each other.

It's nice like this, the three of them together, doing nothing but enjoying each others company.

Diego had told Ben to come cuddle with him on the bed - because Diego is surprisingly needy, not that Ben minds - but Ben doesn't want to move, tries to somehow savour this moment.

There's silence stretching, the comfortable kind, only occasionally broken by Klaus delighted noises, showing them another hideous angel or slightly deformed Santa.

Ben tilts his head back, closes his eyes as he sighs deeply, something like content settling deep within his bones.

He wishes it could always stay like this. 

But it rarely ever does.

Diego’s shifting on the bed, makes some noises Ben can chalk up as him simply trying to get comfortable. When he peeks though, Diego’s sitting up, hand brushing over one side of his face. 

Diego frowns and Ben closes his eyes again, tries to give him privacy. 

There’s more shifting, Diego mumbling something but it’s too quiet to make out, too easily drowned out by Klaus and whatever he’s doing. 

Ben tries to ignore it. 

_ ‘Everything’s alright, everything’s alright, every-’ _

“What am I doing here?” Diego suddenly says and the confusion in his voice makes Ben turn his head sharply, eyes on him. 

Klaus is still kneeling on the floor, still digging through the cardboard box, carefully setting aside porcelain figurines. He hums, smile on his face. “Why Babe, you’re helping me decorate! What else would you be doing with your time? I’m certain-”

“Klaus!” Ben hisses. Urgent. He’s still looking at Diego and he’s starting to get worried, noticing the slight tremor in Diego’s hands, the way he stares at the ground between his feet. 

Klaus must’ve noticed something is off, must’ve heard it in the tone of Ben’s voice. He turns, looks first at Ben, then at Diego. 

“Oh,” he says, frowns. He stands up slowly, makes his way over to the bed where Diego’s still sitting. 

“Hey Diego ...how are you feeling?” Klaus’ eyes flicker over to Ben, asking for help, but Ben doesn’t know what to do either. This happened two times before already - he knows it happened more times than that when it was  _ him _ \- but still Ben feels unprepared, utterly helpless as he takes in Diego hunched over on the bed, head down. 

Staring at his hands. 

Klaus comes to a stand right before him, stands there for a few seconds. Like he’s calculating what to do. Ben doesn’t remember what Klaus used to say to  _ him _ when he was...confused. Memories are a tricky thing. 

(Better not to remember anything at all). 

In the end, Klaus crouches down, balancing on his soles to be eye to eye with Diego. 

“Diego? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Klaus’ hands are twitching, like he wants to reach out and touch. Klaus’ way of comfort has always been tactility, trying to convey empathy through simply being there. 

But that’s sadly out of the question here. 

_ ‘I could do it,’ _ Ben thinks, more of a trickle than a realization. Something in the back of his mind.  _ ‘I could go over and hug him. Ground him.’ _

But Ben knows he won’t. His reaction to a problem has always been to withdraw, try and separate himself. Being rational. 

He doesn’t know when that transformed into being cold. 

(He has an idea though). 

Klaus is on his own with this one and Ben wishes he weren’t. It’s just always been easier, looking at Klaus for a reaction or an answer. After all, Klaus has always been living for both of them. 

Well, lives for the three of them now. 

“Diego.” Klaus is persistent, tapping his fingers against his own thighs. He’s bouncing on his heels now, nervous energy trying to get out. 

Diego’s moving, drawing his shoulders up. He keeps his head low but at least he’s answering, voice thick with emotion. 

“I-I don’t  _ know _ . What is happening?”

Klaus sighs, drags a hand over his face. He looks so tired. 

“It’s okay,” he tells Diego, calm in a way Ben could never be. Not in a situation like that. “You’re just a little confused is all.”

“ _ Klaus. _ ” Diego looks up sharply and Ben gasps automatically. Even though he should’ve known. Even though he should be used to this. 

Klaus flinches back when Diego stares at him but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look away. Keeps meeting Diego’s single eye. 

It’s definitely not the worst gunshot wound either of them have ever seen, not the worst wound you could carry with you to the afterlife. There’ve been severed heads and torn open bodies, organs and muscle mass spilling out. 

But it’s still horrible, still a shock to see their brother like this, half of his face just gone, taken away by a trigger happy criminal. 

“ _ Klaus, _ ” Diego says again and he’s crying now, blood oozing out of the hole where his eye should be. It runs down his cheek, smears across his skin. 

For a moment Ben feels something he’d maybe call jealousy, watching how  _ lively _ Diego looks, even like this. Capable of emotions Ben long forgot the feeling off. 

That’s how it is the first few years of being dead. You’re the most alive. 

Diego sobs, ugly and loud, wipes at his face. Spreading the blood even more. He looks miserable and immediately Ben regrets being bitter. 

_ ‘Diego isn’t exactly the lucky one here, with half his face blown off.’ _

Not even Klaus is lucky, with all his ghosts - literal and figuratively - haunting him, finding him no matter where he’s hiding. 

(Maybe Ben is the lucky one. Maybe Ben is the one causing misery, living vicariously through Klaus and driving Diego out of their childhood home and onto the streets at night. Into his demise). 

_ “What is wrong with me?” _ Diego’s touching his head, tentatively feeling his face. His nose, his chin. The side of his face that should be there, should be whole and healthy, but instead is torn open, bits and pieces scattered here and there. Like someone tried to mend something broken but forgot what the original is supposed to look like. 

“Oh _ honey _ .” Klaus is crying now too, doesn’t bother trying to hide it. “I wish I could hug you,” he mumbles, fingers hovering over Diego’s knee. “I’m so sorry I can’t.”

Again, there’s the voice in Ben’s mind.  _ ‘You could hug him. You’re just a coward.’ _

Ben’s gripping the edge of the table he hasn’t moved away from, holding on tightly enough his knuckles are turning white. He doesn’t know what to do, wants nothing more than to comfort his brother where Klaus can’t. At the same time though, he can’t help but wonder if he would even be able to help, to comfort someone after all those years of not being seen or heard, of not having to make his words have significance - not to anyone aside from Klaus.

And even then, Klaus could just decide to drive him away when he said things that displease him, get high and watch Ben disappear, struggling to communicate, scream out to Klaus. Feeling trapped under a bell jar. 

But as always, Klaus is there to decide for him. 

He looks over at Ben, eyes wide and pleading and Ben immediately stands up. 

He walks over to the two of them, wishes he could squeeze Klaus’ shoulder while passing. It’s unfair, how him and Diego get to touch each other, to be close while Klaus can’t.

But then again, maybe it’s Karma. Klaus is constantly seen by the world around him - how can he not? - constantly gets to be  _ there _ , while Ben only watches on the sidelines. 

So it seems like some twisted kind of justice, Ben wrapping his arm around Diego’s shoulder - mindful to be on his good side, where Diego can actually see him - press him close to his chest, making eye contact with Klaus throughout. 

(Maybe dying made Ben cruel. But maybe staying dead while watching everyone around him be alive did). 

Diego’s curling around Ben, crying into his sweater. Ben holds him close but says nothing, leaves the talking to Klaus. He’s better at it anyway.

It feels a bit like they’re a team now - a real team, not just two people stuck together by bad luck, constantly crashing with each other because Ben can’t agree with the way Klaus decides to not-live his life. 

Maybe Diego is exactly what they needed to become one, maybe he’s the piece that makes them whole. 

But maybe Ben doesn’t wanna be whole if it means holding his dead brother in his arms, every sob shaking him to the core, making Ben’s shoulders rattle. 

Klaus coos at Diego, murmurs comforting words, hands inches from Diego’s face, nearly patting his hair. He's heartbreaking in his desperation and for the first time in years Ben feels like crying.

He needs to do something. Be the strong one for once.

(He was never the strong one, not even while talking Klaus through withdrawal. He can talk all he wants, use all the big words he learned from the books he likes to hide behind, but he isn't the one writhing on the bed, screaming his lungs out as tremors run through his whole body).

<strike> (He knows he isn't able to ever quit his personal drug). </strike>

But it's different now. Now there's Diego and now there's Klaus with teary eyes, silently begging Ben to make this whole mess even the slightest bit better.

“You were on a mission." Ben keeps eye contact with Klaus as he speaks, his chin on Diego's head, mindful not to touch his wound.

(It wouldn't hurt but it wouldn't feel good either, like someone is brushing over a ticklish spot. Touching something intimate.

For a few years, Ben got obsessed with tracing his wrists, if only to feel some kind of stimulation).

Diego keeps breathing quickly, sobs still slipping past his lips. But he's listening too, trying his hardest to stay quiet, so Ben keeps talking.

"It was simple, just a minor robbery.  _ 'In and out' _ ” Ben smiles, repeating Diego's words back at him. Klaus is smiling too, short and watery, kneeling in front of them like he's worshipping them. Maybe they'd make a good motive for a picture, one of those renaissance paintings that always have an air of desperation around them, every stroke of the paintbrush laced with pain. 

“You didn’t notice the other guy until it was too late.” Ben sighs, closes his eyes for a moment. “You were dead within seconds.”

There’s a sound and at first Ben thinks it’s Diego but it’s Klaus, trying to swallow his whimpers. He bites one of his knuckles and Ben wishes he could take his hand.

“Were you there? With me? When I-” Diego swallows, face pressed into Ben’s sweater. “You were there, right?”

Ben opens his mouth but Klaus beats him to it. “Of course we were,” he says, shoots Ben a warning look. “We’d never leave you alone.”

“Yeah,” Ben says slowly, watches Klaus over Diego’s head. Klaus pleads silently, nods his head towards Diego. 

“We were there,” he lies. 

In reality, Diego’s body had been lying dead in a ditch for over two days before anyone noticed. His Landlord had reported him as missing and he’d also been the one to identify the body. 

Diego Hargreeves had died the same way he’d lived his life: Alone. 

Ben and Klaus hadn’t been to the funeral. Klaus said it would probably upset Diego too much. Confuse him, seeing everyone again, mourning him even though he’s right beside them. 

They’d gotten ice cream instead - well, Klaus had stolen some ice cream and Diego and Ben had made some entirely unhelpful comments throughout. 

Diego seems to be calming down now, no more tearful sobs. His shoulders keep shaking though, with each shuddering breath he takes, slumped against Ben. 

Neither of them need to breathe; Ben had a panic attack the first time he’d realized that. Diego doesn’t seem to mind as much. But maybe that’s because he never had to, not even back when he was alive. 

“That’s it, honey,” Klaus says, voice achingly soft. “Everything’s fine. We’re here.”

_ ‘We’re here but one of us can’t touch you and the other is emotionally constipated,’ _ Ben thinks but doesn’t say so, hums in a way that’s meant to be agreeing. 

He taps Diego’s shoulder, makes him look at him. 

Diego’s staring up at him, hole in his head and all, and his face is so open, so  _ earnest _ , Ben’s heart breaks a little. 

“Let’s work on this, shall we?” He gestures over at the side of Diego’s face, tentatively wipes at the blood still smeared over his cheek. 

Diego leans into his touch, nods his head like he’s in a trance. 

“Okay, Baby.” Ben isn’t known for pet names, leaves all the softness and the yearning words, all the affirmations of  _ Love _ to Klaus, like he leaves everything to Klaus. But he can’t help but want to  _ do _ more, to say more, to show Diego how much he means to Ben, to both of them. 

He wants to hold him so close they melt into each other, wants to swallow Diego whole, truly be one with him. 

(The Horror used to plant thoughts inside Ben’s head, weird urges about  _ taking _ and  _ claiming  _ but this right here, this is all Ben. 

Maybe it’s growing up in a household where everything was shared with 6 people - even your birthday - that makes the things Ben wants to call his own so much more precious, makes him  _ possessive _ . 

He thinks that must be it because he sees the same thoughts reflected back in Klaus’ eyes, catches him looking at Diego - at  _ himself _ \- from time to time the way Ben knows he looks too). 

“Let’s focus on healing.” Ben traces the skin - where there’s still skin he can touch, still something solid to thumb over. 

“Just think about the way you look,” he says, bites his tongue on the  _ ‘used to’ _ . 

Diego nods again, closes his eyes. Ben keeps his hands on Diego’s face, watches in awe as the skin seems to patch itself, stretch out over muscles and veins. The gaping hole in his head fills out, slowly but surely. There’s an eyelid, closing over nothing, and when it opens again Diego’s eye is there, Diego blinking as he’s trying to bring Ben’s face into focus. 

Ben smiles at Diego and both of them look over at Klaus when he starts talking. “There’s my pretty boy.” He rubs at his eyes, red from crying, but he’s smiling too. 

“I’m always pretty,” Diego shoots back, voice still raw. He’s still pressed close to Ben, still clutching at him, but he seems to be coming back to himself now, back to their easy back and forth. 

That doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. 

The first few years are the worst. Ben knows that from Klaus, from the few times Klaus had opened up about how it's been, what dealing with  _ Ben _ had entailed. Klaus dislikes talking about it, gets that far away look he always has when he goes  _ back _ , back to the mausoleum. 

It must have been bad, that's all Ben knows for sure. 

His fingers are itching, tempting him to touch his wrists. He puts them on Diego's scar instead, the thin line it's drawing, making its way from the back of Diego's head to his temple.

(You can clean up as much as you want but you can never get rid of all the evidence, of what killed you in the end. If you have enough control it’s less noticeable. 

Diego’s scar is thick, red and raised, catching the eye. Ben’s scars you can only see if you look closely enough, faint white lines gleaming in dim lights).

Ben leans forward, kissing the side of Diego's head impulsively, lips pressing over his scar.

Diego hums, leans into it.

Later, Diego's gone - vanished, back to the place all ghosts go when they aren't being summoned, aren't haunting something or someone.

Or maybe he's checking up on someone, looking at the little wooden cross next to Ben's statue, the one Luther had punched into the ground with brute force and tears in his eyes.

The important thing is, he isn't there and Ben uses the opportunity to sit down next to Klaus, nearly close enough their thighs are touching. Mindful they don’t actually do though, neither of them needing to see the way Ben just seems to vanish around Klaus’ touch. 

See the things they can’t have.

Ben looks at him, smudged mascara the only hint that Klaus has been crying. Now he's back to his usual bubbly self, fake personality fueled by drugs and desperation.

“Does it ever get easier?” Ben asks him, stares at Klaus long fingers, rolling a joint. They barely shake, movements too practised to be disturbed by emotions.

Klaus turns his head, meets Ben's stare head on. He doesn't smile, doesn't even blink, only stares. Like he's looking through Ben.

It takes a long moment for Klaus to answer.

"No," he says, sticks the joint between his lips. Flicks open his lighter with one hand.

"It never gets easier." He takes a deep drag, holds it. Ben watches him, imagines the burning in his lungs.

Klaus lets the smoke out slowly and it reminds Ben of sulphur, of movies about exorcising demons.

Klaus is grinning at him now, showing teeth.

"You should know by now, Benny Boy: It only gets worse."

**Author's Note:**

> My only defense is that I had a vague, messy idea and needed to go with it. 
> 
> No regrets.


End file.
